


Not Always the Lowly Creatures

by slightlyjillian



Category: The Lair of the White Worm (1988)
Genre: Immortality, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlyjillian/pseuds/slightlyjillian
Summary: The D’Amptons expand on their family legend. Instead of a conquering hero, the next verse belongs to an amiable peacemaker. And four heroes just a little less human.
Relationships: James D'Ampton/Angus Flint
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter One

When you’ve already blown up the deity your species is supposed to serve and worship, Angus Flint decided that there was no one he needed to answer to besides himself. And if that meant reconsidering his career, so be it. And if that meant renegotiating territory with the sisters who made up the other half of your population, then Angus could tolerate it. And if that meant reconsidering who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, well that checked out too. 

“Time to think” had become packed bags, exiting the room he had rented in the Trent home, and Angus finding a new space to sleep in James’s estate. 

Mary Trent had been beautifully confident in her transformation. Eve had hovered slightly to the side of her sister, dealing with her trauma under a bashful acceptance of her power. Angus had kept waiting for Eve’s protest which never came. She had been quite good competition at tangling up James D’Ampton’s free time, although not anymore.

His mind jumped over the women, skipped the potential antidote, and landed on the still warm body of James D’Ampton. James was in his own bed. Dropped, unconscious, while Angus calculated what his future would be now. Survival sat differently when Angus had more secrets to keep. And power.

The bed was ridiculously fancy. Sitting on the opposite side, Angus traced his fingers along the duvet. Perfectly soft, no resistance. 

He tilted his head to hear and found his mouth open, only just, when he tasted the smells of the room. James had indulgent dreams. And over that was blood and rot of bodies Angus still needed to clear from the property. The manservant, Peters, was dumped in a hallway and the other creatures who had been like Angus was now, were scattered bits of flesh and ash. Quite a lot of the furniture had been tossed, including a drum set that had Angus more curious about the man who lay blissfully knocked out.

Angus sighed, pulling off his shoes. He twisted to spread out his legs on the bed and leaned back into the headboard. The curtain kept the space dark, not that time meant much to an immortal creature. And he must be that now. Or very hard to kill. He checked again, fingertips to his neck. No pulse. New rules.

James was still alive. Only just on a whim. 

Power gave Angus a playful curiosity to live a truth he’d refused to consider before. All the same, Angus knew the better gods didn’t take. The better gods waited for consenting worship.

He wanted to be good. He really did. He also really wanted James.

“Should I be here to explain when you wake up?” Angus asked the room. “I did knock you harder than I intended. I should mention I’m sorry about that. But would you better appreciate it if I cleaned up this mess? Would you be more interested in…” Angus twisted his neck trying to force out the words. “Could you be interested in joining me?”

He didn’t know who else he would ask to share forever with him. Even at home, his parents were politely estranged. His relatives were marriage events, baby showers, and funerals. Colleagues in his profession, the strange lot who did his sort of work, already considered Angus a fringe member more peculiar than the usual. 

James had been remarkably easy to talk to in a community that either ignored him or saw him as too new to be judged anything but odd. He wouldn’t have met James, hell, he wouldn’t even have been at the party, except for Mary’s infatuation with any available dating option. 

Angus remembered the other man, the one she truly loved, who had died in the accident. Perhaps he was being unfair to her. He understood loneliness.

He ghosted his fingers over the surface of James’s hair. The truth was that as long as James remained human, Angus hadn’t escaped and he wasn’t out of danger. He himself had taught James, descendent and heir of the D’Ampton’s, how to destroy him physically. And to give James an emotional advantage was a thrilling risk, but perhaps one best left for a more certain moment.

Planning had always been a space in Angus that filled with scenarios and random knowledge to cover all possibilities. Remembering that the Trent family had odd and miscellaneous weaponry in a cupboard. Suspecting that he might need to pack his kilt and his bagpipes, a habit that had never proven fruitful before. Knowing how to capture and safely carry a mongoose. Addressing a snakebite. Proposing a life partnership with a handsome man with whom he had started to feel some connection. Angus would plan.

The hum of anticipation softened until Angus knew he could deal with the only question he didn’t dare explore too quickly. Would James accept the bite?

.:.

The D’Ampton’s house might have been a museum except for the oddly charming bits and pieces that were modern and used. Next to a museum piece of marble memorializing the heroic originator of the family legend was a coffee service station. Beneath a display of polished battle axes was a distressingly dusty Sinclair ZX Spectrum 128. 

Angus put the drum set upright and considered where he might move Peters. He’d scrubbed up the evidence of the monsters, not a task to leave for the common help. The police would need to collect the manservant’s body and make a report. But he could not remain inside the house if Angus was going to suggest cohabitation with the handsome socialite. 

Readying himself for the hefty body, Angus found the man’s large shoulders lifting easily in his grasp. A test pull, and Angus could simply drag the body away as if it were a feather pillow. He backed into a corner and pivoted, dragging Peters down the hall. The shoes squeaked now and again on the polished floor. But under that sound and the settling creaks of the house, Angus could hear a pulsing rhythm. And another. 

They increased as he passed a door and predictably stilled as he moved away. 

James had asked the servants to stay in their rooms. Unbidden, Angus slurped back the rush of saliva in his mouth. Was he already needing to feed? Was it just instinct? And if it was the pulse, why had it been different with James who he’d never considered a meal.

Could he even digest food? 

Kicking the servant’s door open, Angus carried Peters near to the street. The body was facedown in a patch of taller grass inclined into the ditch. Angus felt nothing. He slapped his hands and went back to the servant’s door before reconsidering.

Best not to eat the staff. James would be used to needing them. And Angus had so much to learn, he didn’t want to be bothered with chores. 

Decided, Angus felt it best to cross around to the front of the house where the door remained opened. 

Open. With James, leaning in the frame.

“You weren’t trying to leave me now, were you?” Angus tried, lightly. Twenty-four hours ago, Angus was proud to hold his own side of a conversation while looking at such a pretty face. Now, he didn’t feel anything but calm. James was the fragile variable. Human.

“I’m not dead,” James said, wincing at his own rasping voice.

“I can have someone make tea,” insisted Angus, taking a step forward, hand slightly raised. He imagined he might look the same approaching a nervous horse or a timid cat. 

“You are…” Furrowing his brow, James didn’t finish the thought. Either James was concussed and unsure. Or the statement was enough to declare their difference. 

“I am,” Angus nodded. He moved his other foot forward and when James didn’t react, resumed his way up to offer his hands. James inclined himself to accept the assistance. Angus whispered, “I’ve got you. We made it. There’s a lot to unpack, but first tea.”

“I should change,” said the other man, sounding distressed.

Angus had his arms full and it was taking so much not to nuzzle the large bandana that James still had tied around his neck. This weight, unlike Peters, was alive and running hot with every inch pressed into his fingers, his torso, now and again his knee dragging along James’s leg.

“You’re perfect,” Angus corrected. “But if you might enjoy tea better wearing something else, I can help.”

James became stiff where before he’d been compliant, “Just tea. I need to think.”

“Yes, that’s always a good idea,” Angus agreed. He added lightly, “We still have to turn ourselves in.” Echoes of that promise, before Angus had transformed totally, lingered between them.

“Food first,” reminded James, resolute. Angus nodded, understanding. James wasn’t scared yet, but he knew he should be. The appearance of control, that would keep James comfortable. And food.

Angus considered his own appetite. He wasn’t craving anything. Hunger wasn’t upon him just yet. That plan would be developed eventually, soon, but first understanding James. Making sure he saw the choice and… well, Angus wouldn’t consider the option James would refuse. 

It became clear that James hadn’t quite reached the same questions of mutual intimacy as Angus when James stripped to his pants and selected a comfortable, warm jumper with a loose pair of slacks. Angus crossed his arms and found a nice spot of wall to lean and watch. Accepting the brazen boldness, the Scottish man smirked. 

“You’re different,” James said, not turning. 

“How?” challenged Angus, keeping his voice low.

“Enough,” he started. “I realize I’ve only just met you a short while ago. But you’re stronger. And, it’s like, gravity finally caught you.”

Angus considered butterflies, and chuckled. “You’re not wrong. I do feel stronger. And… reborn.”

“Are you my enemy?” James finished, but continued to face the wardrobe. His shoulders set and a finger jerked before he could force it still again.

“I couldn’t be that,” Angus said, relieved. 

“Are you… alright?” James took a step, light catching his profile and how he tilted his head just so. Angus had seen James do as much for Eve when their conversation was private. And Angus should not have been watching then. But now it was for him. 

“I seem to be,” Angus analyzed. “I didn’t accept it at first, but then I knew in the car, for certain, that I want to… continue. I’m not going to give up…”

“Well, we weren’t going to do that before… Give up, I mean. It’s the same for us. More or less. Less the same for you, but still not a total loss. You’re not… evil. And the wyrm is gone, right?” James suddenly seemed to consider the source of his victory.

“That’s all true, still true!” Angus uncrossed his arms and showed his palms in surrender. “I just didn’t escape as alive… human… as I was.”

“Fine,” James nodded, already heading out the bedroom door. Angus followed, his heart suddenly pounding which it most definitely had not done before. Angus stumbled and reached for his neck. It wasn’t a living pulse, exactly, but his blood could move.

“Are you ok?” James had turned back, close and genuinely furrowing his brow. Angus doubted James had ever hidden anything on that face.

“It’s new,” Angus said, eventually. “Perhaps we can compare notes on these developments later.”

“Soon,” amended James, but agreed. Leading them both to the smaller dining room. James pulled a bell and then the house was… bustling with life. The excitement of the staff to see James returned and giving familiar tasks warmed the room with their living temperatures and Angus dropped into the seat next to James’s. 

Angus adjusted to the commotion, learning to tune it out like one might a song on the radio. 

“You look the same, although we both probably could use a bath,” James stated, practically. “Food was definitely the first order of business. Then we’ll have to smooth things over with the authorities.”

“Mary will help,” Angus nodded. He considered a glass of water, and, giving it a swirl, found drinking to be just as refreshing as before if not more so. He understood James’s silence and quickly added, “She’s with Eve at their house. Both have survived. Both… like me.” It had been unclear if Mary had a delayed evolution from her earlier bite or if Eve had transmitted the poison after their botched attempt at a cure.

James cut his eyes to really look at Angus then. The servants brought fruit and some meat patties that Angus considered suspicious and declined. James smirked. Neither of them had forgotten the enthusiastic way Angus had devoured his meal of pickled earthworms in aspic at the party. 

“How do I feed you?” James pondered; his mouth full.

Angus fondly indulged devouring James with his gaze, learning his head into one hand. “I’m not quite sure how either. But politely, always politely, I assure you.”

James laughed, choked, immediately recovered, but his face was already flushed with a glimmer in his eyes. “I’m going to mention this once, but your demeanor is quite… virile. Do you cause that on purpose or is it transformed?” No one answered, it wasn’t a question to be resolved. 

Angus relaxed. He let go of a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. Had he taken a breath since the call from the hospital when the cure had failed him and his humanity had only just slipped away? But he had the better answer. 

James had never planned to fill the shoes of his heroic ancestor. And he wasn’t going to do it today either. And James wasn’t going to kill Angus. Not even now. 

James would let Angus make a plan. And they would follow it very badly. And they would worry about each other. And Angus would tell James all of his secrets. Then they would see if Angus was immortal alone or if the D’Amptons would expand on their legend, one of a conquering hero to an amiable peacemaker. A little less human, a little more virile, and absolutely loved.


	2. Chapter Two

Mary had a very large hole in her yard. She immediately put Eve to filling it up. It wasn’t a cruel request, as Eve delighted at her new skills and speed. It also gave Mary time to open a bag and toss away anything that might remind her of the events of the previous day. A fresh start. The watch was gone. The crucifix was a faint dust smear on the wall.

She didn’t need to go into Angus’s room. He’d already done an adequate job of making it bare. 

In his old room, Mary did still herself for a moment. Her breathing seemed just a habit. So much seemed a habit to be shrugged off. 

It was in the hospital that Eve had succumb to her wounds. It had shocked the medical staff, but something in Eve seemed more alive to Mary even as the monitoring equipment had gone deathly still. How to describe the experience except a siren’s call echoing to Eve and boomeranging back to Mary. Then Mary knew that she had the poison inside her still. Faint. Less. But by it moving so slowly, her body seemed to absorb the transformation with a staggering determination and extreme saturation. 

By the time Eve had awaken again, they had convinced the medical staff that the power cords had been unplugged by a careless leg. Mary only had to suggest the women return to their home, and one by one every obstacle in the hospital parted ways to let them pass unhindered.

She dropped the bag of bad memories into the outdoor rubbish bin. Done. The wind teased her hair and Mary narrowed her eyes. What came next? She had no teacher, except nature. The D’Amptons might tell their stories about the wyrm but it was a monster and the D’Amptons only narrative was destruction. Mary wanted to live.

She recognized Eve’s task was complete as her sister dropped to sit beside the puffy earth, completely refilled. Her sister glowed, not a shimmer of sweat to mar the energized spirit.

Was this how Lady Sylvia became liberated? Mary pondered, then decided no. Sylvia had been a magical servant. Mary served no one.

Except maybe a delicious dinner. If she wanted to. And hugging Eve to her feet, Mary did want to be sweet to her sister. “Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll reheat something yummy in the oven.”

Eve nodded. Perhaps she would have more to say some other day. Mary had time to wait.

The kitchen table still had the remnants of James and Angus eating and arguing. Mary picked up the plates and rinsed them with vigor. She’d suspected somewhat that Angus didn’t really enjoy her pulling him around except when it included James. And that was fine. 

She’d expected his relief when she insisted Angus move out and urged him back to the D’Ampton estate. James was a bit of a loose string. But if the stories were true, James enjoyed the company of his RAF friends as much as he had the local ladies. He’d been quite sweet with Eve, so Mary hadn’t fussed at his promiscuously open-heart. Angus might not be as tolerant if James remained human and remained quite as unchecked with his flirtations.

She finished the plates, and let her fingertips drip soap bubbles into the sink.

Would she need her fangs? How would that feel growing in? Did this instinct inside her have the ability to keep Eve safe too? 

And Angus. He wouldn’t like it, but she’d marinated longer and her body knew that he would submit to her if she really wanted to push it. But she wasn’t Sylvia. She didn’t need to win. But she needed her team and his peculiar ability to guess the right answers.

What could she reheat? Would it sustain them until they figured out the answers of how they were? 

Maybe they had enough in the kitchen for a shepherd’s pie.

.:.

Eve quite liked the dinner and Mary had no complaints, although she hadn’t miraculously developed any additional talents in the kitchen. 

“I suppose we know why there were so many snakes about,” Eve said, finally revealing her thoughts.

“Oh,” Mary tested. 

“And I’ve been thinking that might explain the lost sheep. One or two, now and again.”

“I see,” Mary nodded. 

“Angus did his best, I suppose.” Eve dropped her eyes. “We’re alive.” Then a strange humor crossed her features, like a wicked idea thought for the first time. “Or not dead.”

Mary remembered crying, sobbing so hard she couldn’t think. The coldness of the cave and occasional awareness of Angus lying still at the bottom of the stairs. She could hardly blame herself for wanting to survive that. And they did.

Mary suspected that living, undead, was a victory worth taking. 

“I do worry about James,” Eve admitted. She huffed, and set down her fork. “After all, he’s only a man, with a man's dislike of difficult or awkward situations.”

Mary raised her brow. “Oh?”

“I may have read the notion somewhere and not thought of it all on my own,” Eve admitted, “But it does suit him. And I know Angus wants him to change with us. Do you think he could?”

“Agree? Or change,” wondered Mary. 

“Prefer Angus,” Eve chuckled. “I don’t much feel like entertaining James any longer. Even if all we did was dance.”

“All you did was dance.” Mary reconsidered the memory of it.

“All we did was dance,” Eve grinned. 

.:.

The house seemed too cool, so the sisters had found a leisurely spot in the sun to place a blanket and consider the clouds while evening approached. Mary may have dozed in and out, often finding Eve in a new spot and happily conversing with herself.

“Do you think this is what our parents would have wanted for us?” Eve questioned. “Not this.” She lifted her arm and considered the back of her hand, as if it might have scales. “But to have stayed at the house.”

“No,” Mary breathed. “It was always wrong not to have left. I just couldn’t bare to think of them, perhaps, walking up to this place and us not waiting for them.”

“I think you wanted to be on a TV station, the news!” Eve chuckled, “And I would love to be in a shop.”

“You’d have loads of client experience after what we’ve put up here with the rooms.” Chuckling, Mary sat up. Glancing back at the house the warm lights seemed inviting. The shadows of night pulled the heat out of the air and she wondered if she was a touch ectothermic. 

“Maybe not just yet, but someday,” Eve dreamed. “We have time.”

“Is that what’s unlocked your imagination?” Mary teased, letting Eve ignore the observation and deal with her transformation however she liked. Then she rose to fold up the blanket. Neither of them minded if they saw shy movements slithering in the grass. These snakes were not looking for enemies. 

Quite the example for how to live next, Mary thought to herself. Peaceful and solitary. “We must get Angus and James to progress, and I think we’ll manage just the way we should.”


	3. Chapter Three

“Definitely a detour after,” James said with finality.

“Do you even think about Derbyshire?” Angus groaned. “The only memories I want to forget are in a space of days spent there.”

James huffed, pursing his lips. He curled away from Angus to better see the key chains of the airport gift-shop. The chilled drinks were in the display just behind him and goosebumps started to put his hair on end. Angus would fuss unless they were sitting at the gate. James couldn’t sit another moment and craved the stimulation of the bustling coffee shops and the dangers of trying airport food. Even for the risk of feeling a little chilled. 

“Next you’ll be telling me that you don’t remember our anniversary,” James said, airily. Dancing his voice over the words with an edge of caution. Angus cut his eyes to James immediately and went very still.

“Which one,” Angus inquired, hesitation creeping into his tone. 

“I think it was our first conversation,” James pondered. He coyly avoided Angus, stepping around the narrow path between displays. With a pleased gasp, he lifted a snow globe to toss its contents. “I do believe you quite enjoyed the buffet.”

“It was inadequate,” Angus retorted, without malice. 

“Well, I do know better not to let you go hungry for so long now.” James drawled the last word for emphasis. “Which of the places sounded good to you?”

“Well I don’t suppose any of them have a buffet,” Angus observed. 

James recognized it for humor and chuckled. He didn’t quite want the travel mug, but a souvenir after their trip to the United States seemed appropriate. He wondered if he should purchase a few, claiming they were for Mary and Eve, then decide later on the plane.

“She won’t like the look of that one,” Angus pointed. “Definitely the one with the wood engravings.”

“Quite right,” agreed James. He settled on a queue to check out and then he indulged in the precious memories of his first home in Derbyshire. It had gone on to a cousin in the years past. Just as Mary and Eve had insisted, their lives together didn’t have a territory. Just places in time where they would overlap. The sisters had adventures. James, well, he had Angus. 

“I don’t forget our anniversaries,” Angus stated. 

The accent was thicker when Angus dove into his emotions. James quite liked it, even if he knew it bothered Angus to be sentimental. The D’Amptons only knew sentiment and called it legend. James never really bothered to live up to his ancestor who defeated the snake. He much preferred creating his own legend and becoming one. Even if the telling of the tale was a little dull, he could still dance.

“We’ve so many of them now,” James pondered, tucking his merchandise into his carry-on luggage. When he stood upright, he found himself caught up in a hug. Angus draping his arms around from behind and setting their hands together. 

“Let’s make more,” Angus suggested, hiding his face.

“Testing how long we can look like this… forever… “James deflected, loving the attention but knowing that Angus didn’t share it publicly without effort. Decades would flip the calendar, but the man from Scotland still made a very awkward partner.

“I’d hardly recognize myself if I went grey,” said Angus. With a laugh, Angus returned to his normal posture. Fists on his hips. “Isn’t this state famous for brisket?” He motioned toward a bright colored stall that James had been smelling for some time.

The food arrived with Angus watching the time and before James had finished, Angus had found a better seat at their table to see the airport clock. For all the time in the world, James knew his partner would never let them escape the present. It was all in the plan. Plans that would send Angus into dangerous caves with sleeping gods while James drank tea and bossed around the locals. He preferred to think about the moment the music stopped and all James could hear was Angus shouting how much he cared.

James realized he did quite like to drift into the past. Simmering low heat into the best memories. Most of them at the expense of teasing and being quite smitten with the man who was now standing and pulling James out of his seat.

“Now, it’s time.”

.:.

Eve had designed clothing for each of them. She ran a website selling personalized fashion that had endured for decades with a mysterious, unrevealed creator who could make anyone look their best. Rumors made for good business as her work was unquestionable quality. 

Before they would discretely begin their annual reunion ritual, Eve had unpacked the bespoke work and had it ready in each of their hotel rooms. Angus might make the plans, but Eve made sure they looked their best.

Mary was always late for their meet-up. She conducted her existence by stepping in and out of humanity, participating just long enough before disappearing her easy-going grin. Mary had perfected being forgotten. Which was remarkable as she’d gone to various universities taking almost every major degree. The classrooms and academic hallways as familiar to her as any might call home. Fortune was on her side, as Mary still enjoyed receiving many invitations to a party. 

Angus hadn’t been sure if he was upset or pleased when she’d completed several years in archeology. They had often considered pursuing a career together, just for something different. But James hadn’t wanted to stop traveling yet. They had time.

Perhaps in time they would find a way to resist the music. 

“It has less control over us, if we feed and dance just once.”

“Once?” James had asked.

“Once a year,” finished Angus with a gentle scowl.

This year they had reserved a pleasantly remote location. The decor was beautiful and fake, but if the lights were dimmed just enough, they could imagine they had returned to the time when they first looked the ages they now remained forever. 

Mary fussed over her dress, but it was nothing if not comfortable and suited her authority with a very royal blue. Eve put her hand on her sister’s arm. Traditionally Eve wore something off the shoulders and found new ways to make ruffles interesting. This year James approved of his cape, with an underneath flash of his own shade of blue.

Angus threatened to wear a kilt. Eve put him in one anyway.

“You look very nice,” James approved.

“Eyes up here, D’Ampton.”

.:.

Angus was a python. 

They learned his difference over time when his teeth developed in a different pattern than the rest and speculated it to be an effect of a higher infection dosage. Mary and Angus often put their heads together over the variables giving them each a unique transformation.

Because of this Angus waited at a distance while the others calmed their guests with their intoxicating venom. Mary might have managed on her own, but Eve and James hadn’t wanted to deny their instincts. Angus could intervene if needed. He never had to. Mary demanded a humane feeding, and it was as easy as agreeing.

The guests were the sort who might have invited themselves somewhere dangerous, but Mary made sure the evening was safe. Eve created good memories while administering the perfected cures. And James intricately verified everyone was satisfied with the party so that they didn’t need another risky adventure. No guests were repeats, because James knew how to create the ultimate finale. 

Angus was pleasantly astonished each time. A surreal moment of shared life. James would reach over to include Angus when his guest was guiltlessly arranged. It was their private dance that James knew how to prepare.

.:.

“So where are you lads off to next?” Eve asked, putting her shades on as they stepped out into the sunlight.

“Derbyshire,” Angus enunciated with long-suffering dismay. He’d kept the new kilt as it was very nice and one never knew when one might need a kilt again. But today he wore more casual clothing as he anticipated too much hiking.

“Oh, are you now?” Mary caught up, having made sure the last of their guests was checked out and headed home. She laughed, the sunlight sparkling in her hair. “You just want to dig up another diplodocus.”

“Perhaps I will,” Angus grinned. 

“It was his idea,” confirmed James. “I was ready to finally take a boat around South America…”

Angus interrupted, “We can still do that. I thought you wanted to…”

“We have time,” James agreed, bumping shoulders with Angus until the other man leaned in for a quick kiss.

Eve recognized her ride and waved goodbye as she descended the last of the stairs to greet the driver. Once she reached the young man they hugged and began to spin in a ridiculous fashion that took Eve’s designer shoes right off the ground.

“Who is that?” James asked.

“Don’t be jealous,” joked Angus. “That’s Bram.”

“Adam,” Mary corrected. “He’s sweet.”

“He’s Australian,” Angus clarified. Mary pretended to look shocked as Angus continued to explain, “I can use social media.”

“Social media? That’s something on your phone?” James stated, unamused. Mary and Angus both laughed then. 

They watched Eve drive off as a cloud drifted between the Earth and the sun. In only a moment, they all imagined something different happening in their lives. Something less happy. But the shade moved along and light returned.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking out my story! 
> 
> I apologize I've only seen the movie one time. And I'm very out-of-practice writing fic. Of course, that was the perfect combination to spark this nonsense. I hope you enjoyed it!


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